It was an isolated block with only one building with light turned on. The afternoon’s light brightened the street giving the illusion the street was quiet because everyone was inside. They were not. No one was inside.

  Arlene and Wattyson walked along the wide street—to that only operated building, Anire’s apartment complex. She opened her bag again to double check. The slime cores were still inside. Briefly, she glanced to Wattyson. Would he be leading the conversation this time? This whole cores thing was his idea after all.

  Wattyson noticed the constant double checking. “Are you going to stop that? We’re not preparing for a field trip.”

  “Just wondering and it made me do a double check.” She shut the bag with a lazy shift. “Like what are we going to learn from it? Do you have an idea?”

  “No. That’s why we’re bringing it to her.”

  “Ughh. Be more creative. Don’t you want to do a little speculation?”

  “Ok,” Wattyson shrugged. “What’s yours?”

  Her mouth opened and stuck there. She was about to say ‘Oh about how that dungeon didn’t function right’, but that was too obvious. It was probably why Wattyson didn’t bother speculating. “About,” she dragged out, “how did the slimes act like that? You remembered. Rows of them, all acting like delayed, synchronized choir. That’s not standard behavior.”

  He nodded. “That’s fair, but how is she going to know that? She wasn’t there and you’re only to give her secondhand account.”

  “Is that how it works?”

  “If it was me, yeah.”

  “We’ll see. She’s not you after all.”

  Arlene stretched her arms upward then before shrugging her shoulders. “Will you be okay?” She was aware of last time he was there. Anire’s place was tight with equipment and too little space, and he was uncomfortable there like he had claustrophobia.

  “As long as I get the hammock, I’ll be fine.”

  “Right,” she scoffed. “I’ll be sure to tie it for you if Anire doesn’t already have it up.”

  Up close now, they were there at the front. Arlene didn’t know how to go about entering. Every time they came, it was always Anire bringing them in. She took stock of what was in front. A door obviously. A window showing nothing. A doorbell. There it was.

  Tapping it once and it let out a drawn out bell like a drum instrument. She tapped it again, and again, and again. She inevitably started pressing it in rhythm.

  Noticing how Wattyson was looking at her, that face of his silently asking Really?

  “What?” She retorted. “This is fun.”

  Absorbed into ringing the bell and giving him that look of Joy, by the time she turned her attention to the door. Anire was already there, leaning on the doorframe. She was in her usual coat attire. Her lines dotted eyes staring at Arlene with that same wide smile from ear to ear. Her neko ear was flapping in rhythm with the bell.

  “Uhh, Hello Anire!” Arlene greeted cheerfully and a bit forced from the awkwardness.

  “Hello, Arlene~ and Wattyson~” Anire replied. Wattyson only grunted acknowledgement.

  Anire continued. “What brings you here~” She gasped, covering her mouth with those long coat sleeves of her. “Is Wattyson here to help me test again?”

  “No.” It came out of Wattyson immediately which got her to pout. “We’re here because we found something, and Arlene thinks you should take a look at it.”

  Arlene snapped to him immediately. Me?! She shouted internally. He was shifting it on to her!

  “Oh? What is it, Arlene~?”

  “R-right!” She quickly opened the bag. “These,” she didn’t take it out, “We encountered something strange. They were slimes and it didn’t exactly act like one. Thought you might find them interesting.”

  The neko’s grin didn’t shift, but her eyes narrowed. “Really? You brought me souvenirs? I’m delighted~.” She turned to the side, arms let out pointing inward. “Come in, come in. I’ll take you upstairs~”

  The apartment complex like always was full of either empty floors or filled with crates of materials, monster parts or vials both empty and full. The conveyor belts outside the building still gave off the impression this was a manufacturing plant rather than a living space.

  Top floor was where Anire led them in—her living space by her standard. The numerous laboratory equipment was all scattered on the steel desks. Boxes of vials in the azure blue filled them—her mana vials likely.

  The main room was cleared off the middle. Before there was that steel table in the middle but no more. Arlene wondered if Anire removed it in case Wattyson came. That hammock was still there for once which was immediately commandeered by Wattyson.

  There was one thing she didn’t see. She took a seat near one of the wall. “Anire, where’s that Gavituth’s heart?” She had looked everywhere. It wasn’t here as far as she could see.

  Anire didn’t answer right away. She was preparing tray and vials atop of it to serve as drink for her guests. “Oh that?” She turned to Arlene first with trays in hand. Eyes kept nudging to the vial for her to take. “I have it stashed away. I need to test something else before returning to it.”

  Arlene took it and sipped away the drink. It was strawberry. “Where is it then?”

  “It’s in the room past here. I have it around a few barrier runes.” Anire left the tray filled with piles of strawberry vials by Wattyson. “Once I’m done calibrating how exactly to push the mana threshold again, I’ll return to it.”

  “Right. That.” Arlene glanced to Wattyson who was now just swinging on the hammock. A being in motion to stave off his own phobia.

  Wasting no more time, she shifted the leather bag opened and took out the cores one by one. “Most of it are destroyed. Some taken by the people we went with. These are the one we took. The large ones anyway. Quite frankly… I don’t remember if this used to be one or just broken into many after our uhh… encounter with other monsters.”

  Her eyes darted to her companion—hoping he would correct her if it was one or not originally. He didn’t. Too busy to become a localized whirlwind.

  Anire sat down and leaned so far front she might as well be groveling. “Hmmm~” She hummed and whistled. “Tell me more about those.”

  “They were once with a slime which I told you, but this one was able to merge with multiple others and formed a larger mass.” Arlene recalled. “Afterward, it was able to fight and continue adapt at a moment notice.”

  The neko girl listened intently. “Slimes are normally noted to merge with other slimes, but the part about how it fought and adapted intrigued me.”

  “That’s not all. There’s also a fact it mimicked another creature in appearance. It had a lion appearance and tentacles as limbs from wherever they pleased. What troubled me is the fact it knew the lion’s appearance and it used tentacles like actual spears.”

  Anire took one of the cores, and started juggling them. “That’s interesting,” she replied. “So the slimes didn’t just merge into a larger blob, but mimicked something? Where did you find them?”

  “A dungeon in Tu’ei.”

  “The same forest we fought Gavituth?” Anire tilted her head. “No, these correlations are coincidences. It shouldn’t be connected to the Far Tundra.” She muttered to herself.

  She rolled the core back to the others like they were toy. “Dungeon monsters mimicking animals outside of dungeon. That shouldn’t be possible. Was there anything particular about this dungeon?”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “Yeah, there is.” Arlene tapped her bag. “Imagine this was a wall right? The wall was pristine clean. Full marble and blinding white.” She flopped the bag flat on the floor. “But the ground? It was dirty like they were here for a long time. I believed one of the people we went in said it was like the dungeon was stuck in its birth.”

  “Stuck in its birth? Like transition?”

  “Yeah. Dungeon starts off clean when they are formed or recycled into a new. This one was stuck there. It was like time continued on the floor, but didn’t for the wall—it had no scratches, bloods, marks or anything.”

  Anire sucked her lip in before plopping back out in a pouty grin. “Why didn’t you invite me!” She flapped her hands around, hidden by the lab coat sleeves. “That was the perfect environment for me! Arlene~!”

  The sight of the neko girl flapping on the floor like a cat seeking attention lightened her mood. “We didn’t know, Anire.” Arlene said. “It was urgent. It would’ve been a full day walk back to get you then to the dungeon.”

  “Hmph,” Anire sat straighter. “Fine. I concede~, but I have questions.” Her eyes opened wide. That dotted line in her eyes connected. She looked to Wattyson with that unbridled grin. “How was he in the dungeon?” She directed the question to Arlene instead rather than the whirlwind engine.

  “How was he?” Arlene repeated. “What do you mean?”

  “Like did the dungeon react to him at all? His void status?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. He did use magic, but it was the same as when you saw him fought Gavituth. Nothing changed.”

  Anire took in her answer as she stared to the person in question. There weren’t any changes. Zero mana in him. She bit her lip faintly. How she wished she was there in the dungeon to study and catalogue.

  “Alright,” She shook her head. “We’ll get back to it later. I have something to test regarding mana on Wattyson,” she flicked a look to him, “once he’s done spinning.”

  Crawling to cores, she was nudging it back and forth like it was cotton ball. “Hmm… This is a core created by a dungeon alright.” She stood up taking one of the core with her, and to the table with many precision tools. “I’ll take a look at it. There should be something we can learn~”

  Arlene got up to her side. Looking at the way Anire picked up the scalpel pricking the core—along those small cracks. “Anything I can help with?” All the tools nearby looked alien to her. Were they custom made?

  She was handed a small hand sized crystal faintly pulsing in blue. Beneath the crystal was a small cable connected to a rod. “This is?” She asked.

  “A battery~. Can you charge it up? I was going to spend all day exhausted charging all of them up,” she flicked her ear to the many bundled up crystals nearby. “It’s a godsend you’re here today.”

  “I don’t mind,” she felt her hand around the crystal. The rough jagged surface molded and melted into a smoother texture like they were clay for her. It felt like she was getting a shot of medicine—tiny prickling along the palm of her hand.

  There wasn’t anything to do while waiting for Anire, and Wattyson certainly didn’t seem like he was down to talk. She took to the rod instead connected to that crystal. It was the size of a toothpick albeit a long one like a quill. This was meant for something; she just couldn’t think what was it used for. It connected to the crystal via a cable and required mana?

  She kept spinning it on the table, twirling it with a finger and then having to rotate it back because she tangled the cable. A small glint glittered slightly. Squinting her eyes, she could see it; small writing in runic language. Who would write it this small? Was this for ant?! Nevertheless, she figured out how that rod was activated by a press of thumb there. It was a tool to inject mana—no doubt it was created by Anire.

  The neko near her shoved the scalpel into the small crack before twisting it like she was prying it open. The look on her was calm, calculated and fully in control. She pressed down on the scalpel slowly with pressure rising. Then a small shlink noised out with the scalpel no longer in hand. It slipped out of her grip and flew to the back.

  Arlene quickly grabbed her hand. “Are you okay?!”

  Anire turned to her slowly smiling still. “Oopsie~” She quickly returned her attention to the core. Nothing budged. “Looks like I can’t force it open.” She resigned. “Alright, I’ll try with the rod~”

  “And how would you go about that? Your last attempt sent a scalpel flying. Are you going to shove it in too?”

  “Yes! With mana!”

  Anire stabbed the core with said rod, pressing her thumb down on that tiny runes. “I’m trying to see if I can access anything in it.”

  “Access?” Arlene asked. “You’re talking like the core is a brain. Never mind the fact it is dead. Are you trying to revive it? Like some kind of battery?”

  “Similar, but yes. I don’t see any reasons why dungeon monster wouldn’t behave like that. They’re not exactly alive—they’re beings of pure mana formed in dungeon.”

  It was an educated answer. Arlene had explained it to Wattyson that dungeonster were exactly that, but she felt it was unethical still just to try and revive it. That still unflinching grin on Anire was still there. “You’re confident.” She said.

  “I am.” Anire answered. “It’s not every day I get to test on this~ cores from dungeon are so expensive after all. People just turned them into armors and weapons.” She shrugged as the rod started to glow and radiating yellow dust off the tip. “Why wouldn’t they? I mean, they do come from dungeons after all~ Would make for a fine armament.”

  Without pausing, she let out a sigh. “People these days have no respect for discovery into the world. They just see old renewable dungeon as nothing but farm~”

  Arlene didn’t retort back. She just watched the mesmerizing dust spewing out of the rod while she herself was holding the crystal connecting to it. “Assuming you did reactivate it, what’s next? What if it suddenly reforms its slime body? I can’t guarantee your safety in this cramp of a room.”

  “That is for the me in the very, very near future to decide. Right now, it’s just poking to see what’s stick.” Anire glanced to Wattyson who finally settled into a still motion. “Wouldn’t you say, Wattyson?”

  “Don’t talk to me.” He replied in an instant as he finally drank those strawberry vials. He already chugged three. “Do whatever you want with the cores.” It was affirmation as far as Anire was concerned.

  “You don’t think this is dangerous, Watty? I can’t exactly swing my sword here without accidentally breaking all the beakers on shelves here.”

  “Just use your magic.”

  Arlene sighed. “Why do I even try… How much longer Anire?”

  Anire continued to angle the rod differently every time all aiming at the same focal point. “I don’t know~. Maybe soon?” Just as she spoke. The core began to glow in red. “Oh my~ This is interesting.”

  Next, the core vibrated in response to the rod. No longer was the rod radiating off yellow dust. They could see the color slowly changing to red—attuning to the core itself. Anire let go of the rod, but it didn’t fall. Instead it was just stuck there diagonally like they were trapped too deep into the core—even though the tip in that crack was clearly connected loosely.

  “Anire—“ Arlene said, letting go of the crystal.

  “—Hmmm… It looks like because this is a slime core, it’s trying to gather any mass possible.” Anire gripped on the desk and gave it a little shake. All other utensils and equipment shook except for the core and the rod—they were one with the table like they were glued to it.

  Anire chuckled to herself. “Looks like I have a dungeon monster in my lab~” It was short lived as eventually the core itself died out, faintly burning out into dormant once more. The rod fell with a soft clink onto the desk. “I guess that’s expected. There’s no dungeon mana to sustain it naturally.”

  Before Arlene could ask her why she was doing it, she got her answer from Anire’s muttering. “This doesn’t explain anything. How can a dungeon monster know to form a lion? Tentacle’s sure, but a lion? Lion doesn’t even exist in this part of the world. Ughh… If only I was in that dungeon.”

  She turned to Arlene. “Do you know more about that dungeon? Did you clear it?”

  “No, we didn’t.” Arlene said. “We were diving in to clear whatever was terrorizing in Floor Forty. A Challenger monster. We didn’t get to clear it.” She paused. “Though… there is something else about the dungeon.”

  “Oh? Pray tell~”

  Arlene crossed her arms, her gaze lowered. “It feels alive. Like… pulsating alive. Half way through the dungeon. It switched. The wall was torn out while the floor was cleaned, not to mention roughly thirty and above, it became more mechanical. Steel walls and all. It felt like a workshop rather than a classical era dungeon.”

  “There was one instance, I tried slashing the wall. It repaired itself immediately after and in that small wound I saw a vision… of myself. I cannot recall clearly. Maybe it wasn’t a vision of me. It was all blurry.” She didn’t want to.

  She watched the neko girl now pacing back and forth in this confined room, muttering. “A dungeon that felt alive. Floors mismatching then turned into different genre half way through. Self-repairing walls mimicked that of a dungeon renewing itself in the early stage… yet this dungeon had existed for roughly a month give or take after renewal. You didn’t go clear it because you were clearing the Challenger in Floor Forty.”

  Anire smiled even more. Her eyes screamed how fascinating this was. “Tell me. What was the monster you were clearing~?”

  “It was… an Eastern Kobold.” Arlene answered, sticking to the cover story. “A mutated one. Moonless is what Wattyson called it.”

  Anire gasped. “Do you have a specimen?”

  “No, Wattyson burned it.”

  Anire snapped to Wattyson. “Wattyson~ Why?! That’s profound discovery!”

  He was still chugging down those vials. “Because it’s a virus. You don’t leave virus a chance to cling onto others. It’s standard medical control.”

  “That just sounds like excuses to not study it and create safeguard around it!”

  “There is a safeguard. Burn it. It only affects things that’s not human. Let nature takes it course and develop its own antibiotic. We for our part should only delay it from spreading.”

  “Hmph!”

  While the neko was pouting, Arlene glanced to Wattyson. She was biting her lip and stared at him. She kept narrowing her eyes to him. She mouthed to him. Should I tell her? About the supernatural?

  Wattyson couldn’t understand the silent words coming out of her lip. He didn’t know how to read lip. His face’s a contorted mixed of trying and failing to understand. Huh? This was the land of mystical to him—too arcane for him to understand.

  A face that was perfectly translated to Arlene as she groaned. A retired hunter as her companion. The Anathema that the supernatural feared, and he couldn’t even read lip. She decided. Fists clenching. She had already asked him before if she could tell her. He had already expressed his trust in her leadership. If she truly trusted someone, she should.

  “Anire,” she said softly. “I… don’t know if this knowledge will help you or not in analyzing that cores. I don’t know for sure since I never made it to the end of the dungeon. I don’t know if the corrupted blood we found in Gavituth’s heart or anything similar is in play or not… but I think you should know because I trust you, and you deserve to know if you’re going to travel with us in the future.”

  Anire stopped bobbing her head while thinking. “That’s… a lot to impart on me.” She noticed the look in Arlene’s eyes—that pure sincerity. “Alright.” She took her hands and eased down with her as they both sat. “What is it?”